"He's a terrific man for
justice."
"Surely you're safe--now!" Dot said, quickly.
"If you don't give me away," said Warden.
"I!" She started, almost winced. "There's no danger of that," she said,
in a low voice.
"Thank you," he said. "I've gone fairly straight ever since. It hasn't
been a very paying game. I tried my luck in the West, but it was right
out. So I thought I'd come back here, and that was the turning-point.
They took me on at the Fortescue Mine. It's a fiendish place, but I
rather like it. I'm sub-manager there at present--till Harley goes."
"Ah!" She looked up at him again. "He is a dangerous man. He hates you,
doesn't he?"
"Quite possibly," said Warden, with a smile. "That mine is rather an
abode of hate all round. But we'll clean it out one of these days, and
make a decent place of it."
"I hope you will succeed," she said, very earnestly.
"Thank you," he said again.
He was looking at her speculatively, as if there were something about her
that he found hard to understand. Her agitation had subsided, leaving her
with a piteous, forlorn look--the look of the wayfarer who is almost too
tired to go any farther.
There fell a brief silence between them, then with a little smile she
spoke.
"Are you going to give me back my brooch?"
He put his hand in his pocket. "I was nearly keeping it for good and
all," he said, as he brought it out.
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